Dark Horizon
by tiredwitch
Summary: Peeta meets his end in the 74th Hunger Games. Cato and Katniss survive. Together the two Victors must learn to rebuild their lives as star-crossed lovers and Katniss soon discovers that the brutal boy from District 2 isn't who she thought he was.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games trilogy and all its characters are the property of Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

 **\- Dark Horizon -**

 **Chapter 1**

"There's not enough time-"

"Stop. We'll figure something out. It's gonna be fine," I reply, hastily rummaging though the remaining supplies I had left in my bag. Tears blurred my vision. I felt pathetic, useless and above all, guilty. I could feel Peeta's eyes on me, but I could not face him, not when I knew that there was a possibility that I could not save him.

"Katniss," he whispers.

There was something in his voice that made me want to burst into tears. Acceptance? Defeat? Hopelessness? Or maybe all of those things? Peeta's wound was deep. Pus was oozing out of the infected tissue creating a vile smell, but the smell was the least of my worries. Dark, red lines crawled up his leg, almost web-like, and it only took me a fraction of a second to put the pieces together. My stomach dropped. Blood poisoning. It all made sense. The chills, his fever, the deathlike pallor of his face were all caused the bacteria that had worked its way into his bloodstream. I don't even think that my mother would posses the skills to heal this and there's nothing that my chewed up mint leaves could do to help him. We needed strong medicine from the Capitol and we needed it fast.

The cost of such medicine would make it impossible to retrieve. Gifts from sponsors go up in price the longer the games continue. We're in the latter stages of the Games so medicine that strong would cost a fortune for Haymitch to attain. There aren't many of us left and the audience will begin to grow impatient soon. One less tribute would mean one step closer to crowning their Victor.

"Here, take these," I say, handing him fever pills. It's the only option for now until I figured something out.

I wait for him to swallow the pills, then the entire container of water, and after that I tend to his minor wounds to reduce his pain as much as possible. It is the least that I can do right now. After I tend to his burns and stings, I wipe my forehead with the back of my palm which is covered in sweat. I've been fussing over Peeta for hours and I never took note of how brutally hot it was. It's clear that the Gamemakers were progressively increasing the temperature during the day to make us as uncomfortable as possible, which only makes me hate them more than I already did.

While Peeta rests, since there's little more that I can do, I rummage through my supplies to see what we both have to work with until I can figure something out. What I need most, and what I don't have is anti-infection medicine. You wouldn't find medicine like that at the Cornucopia in the pile of supplies. They didn't want to make it easy for us. The supplies would normally consist of weapons intended to kill, not medicine to heal. That would only slow the process of the Games and the audience thrived on death.

Sighing, I walk to where Peeta is sleeping and I place a cool cloth on his forehead. It's futile, but anything is better than nothing.

And so we wait. I don't know how long we waited exactly. Minutes? Hours? My mind is foggy from the heat. My body is drenched in sweat. I wish they would stop messing with the temperature… I need to keep Peeta's temperature down or else he'll-

The sounds of the trumpets startle me, jolting me into an upright position. Peeta wakes up immediately, waiting nervously for Claudius Templesmith to speak. The more I hear is voice the more I hate it. His accent makes me nauseas. Everything about the Capitol makes me nauseas.

As expected, he's inviting us to a feast. I won't risk it. They do this nearly every year towards the end of the Games when things are starting to get slow and boring for the audience. Food isn't the biggest problem we have, it's Peeta, and I won't risk another encounter with the Careers just for a meal. But Templesmith continues, "Now, I know many of you are already declining my invitation but I must warn you that this is no ordinary feast. Each and every one of you remaining needs something desperately. Something that you would risk your life for."

Peeta's medicine. That's what I need. That's what I would risk my life for.

"At dawn at the Cornucopia, you will each find something in a backpack, marked with your district number. Until then, use your time to consider this generous offer that we have bestowed upon you as for some of you, this may well be your last chance. May the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck to all of you."

His words lay hanging in the air and neither of us speak for quite some time. "I'm going," I say with determination.

"No," he says sharply. "You won't risk your life for me."

"What? You think I'm just going to leave you here and do nothing? Wait for you to die while I sit here and watch?" I would never forgive myself if I did that. The audience would hate me, and quite frankly, I would hate myself, too. Leaving him is not an option and so I would have to think of something else.

"Yes! I will not let you be butchered by those animals. They will be waiting, Katniss. They will be there and they will kill you!" He sits upright and yells out in pain, falling onto his back. He doesn't say anymore. He just stares at the roof of the cave, breathing heavily.

I don't know what possesses me to do what I do next. We're both tired, hot, emotionally unstable, and in Peeta's case, in unbearable pain, but I try to forget all of that when I lean in a place a feather light kiss on his lips. They're soft and warm like before. The kiss is comforting and safe and for a moment it's like I'm back home in the Meadow, free from the cameras...far from the Capitol...Peeta tenses up, almost startled by it, but then, with what strength he had left, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me back. The kiss is different than the first. It's deeper and filled with passion. I could only imagine the reactions of everyone watching us. The gasps of everyone in front of a screen, witnessing the star-crossed lovers from District 12 display their love for each other in front of the world. Our first kiss was meant for the cameras, but now the cameras felt like an invasion of privacy.

My right hand touches his face and I pull back immediately when I feel the searing heat beneath my fingers. His fever is getting worse. We're wasting time.

"Where are you going?" He asks, surprised at my sudden withdrawal.

"Nowhere, I'm going nowhere. Sleep, I'm just going to get water," I say.

"Promise?"

"I won't go anywhere. I promise. Just sleep and I'll bring back something to eat. I'm not gonna let you go hungry."

He seems to accept that I'm not going to run off to my death and so I gather a few supplies and make my way out of the cave.

The air is cold and the sky is beginning to darken rapidly. I walk to the stream on high alert, scanning the nearby trees almost as if I'm waiting for Cato or Clove to pounce right at me. I wonder that they need so desperately. Food? Medicine? Weapons? I try not to think about them. I don't want to think about what they could do to me, or Peeta. Cato has already wounded Peeta, but I'm almost certain he can do a lot more than a mere cut to the leg. I try to imagine what they'd be like had the Games never existed. Would they be normal people going about their day like everyone else without the desire to kill?

My thoughts suddenly turn to Prim. She could have been in the arena, facing the Careers. There's no way she could have made it out of here. I can just picture her. So young, so delicate, lying in a pool of her own blood with Cato standing above her with a sly grin on his face. I could never forget his face, especially his eyes. Those pools of ice blue are forever ingrained in my memory. Perhaps they'll be the last thing that I see before I die. _If_ I die...

I'm so lost in my own befuddled thoughts that I don't even notice the parachute float right by me. It lands in the nearby bush and I sprint right after it, my heart leaping with joy. Haymitch did it! He got the medicine for Peeta – I don't know how he did it but it means that I won't have to go to the Cornucopia after all. The vile is very small, so it must be incredibly strong to cure Peeta's infection. I open it and my stomach drops when I'm hit with the strong scent of sleep syrup. I recognise it immediately. This stuff is cheap and very common in District 12. Everyone uses it from time to time. My mother keeps several vials at home to knock out patients that are in agony. A vile this size could easily keep a person asleep for a full day...

And then it all clicked. A day was more than enough. He'll hate me for it, but I'll hate myself more if I don't do it. I quickly collect a handful of berries, mash them up and pour the syrup over them. I walk back to the cave, my heart racing and my palms sweaty.

"I could only find these berries. It's not much but it'll give you energy," I say, eyeing him carefully.

Peeta gladly takes the berries from me and eagerly swallows a large handful. His expression changes almost immediately and his eyes dart to me. Just when he's about to spit them out I quickly cover his mouth with one hand and his nose with the other before he can spit it out. He's already weak from his wound and before he could muster the strength the push me off, I feel his grip on me weaken.

I look into his eyes right before he looses consciousness and all I can see is anger and betrayal. For a second I feel guilty about what I had just done, but logic quickly replaces my personal feelings and I feel a sense of accomplishment when he finally falls into a deep slumber. _It had to be done_ , I tell myself. I was doing this for him.

 **XxxxXxxxX**

Twenty-four hours. That's all I had to work with until the syrup wore off and I could not afford to waste any of it. Before nightfall I prepare my weapons, fill every water container that I have and then I get started on camouflaging the opening of the cave. I leave a container of water beside Peeta in case he wakes up and I'm not there. It may keep him alive for a little longer but in the end his wound will kill him. Slowly and painfully. I keep telling myself that I will return before he wakes up, that I will save him before the infection spreads anymore than it already has because if I die at the feast, District 12 will not have a victor.

My biggest worry at this point is confronting Cato, Clove and Thresh. I know for a fact that they'll be waiting at the Cornucopia. Perhaps they're already there, or somewhere close by? And then that leaves Foxface. She's an odd one. I don't think that direct confrontation is her thing and I certainly can't imagine her running towards me with a knife. She'll probably be hanging around nearby, waiting for the rest of us to take each other down.

I watch the sky, hoping to see a face so that I'll have one less person to worry about at dawn but no more faces appear in the sky tonight, but tomorrow there will be. Feasts always result in death.

It's cold tonight. Freezing, actually, so I decide to go back in the cave, now camouflaged by a large pile of rocks, and lie next to Peeta. His fever is worse. Without medicine he'll only last a couple of days before the infection finally kills him. Those final days of his life would likely drive him to insanity. A quick death would be the more preferable option and without the medicine, relieving him of his suffering would likely fall into my hands.

But now there's a possibility that I could save him. There was a small chance that I'll succeed but at least the chance is there.

Spirits are probably high in District 12. No one has made it this far in years. Since Haymitch, probably. Our tributes are always killed in the early stages of the games, usually in the bloodbath, so people in the District usually avoid watching the Games. Some are curious, but most go about their day, trying not the think of the innocent children that are being slaughtered in the arena while an audience cheers on.

It's late now and I'm positive that there'll be no cannons going off until tomorrow morning. There probably aren't many watching the Games at this hour. It'll be quiet in the arena for the next few hours while everyone prepares for tomorrows feast. I take Peeta's jacket off, deciding that he doesn't need it and I put it on and return to my position beside him. In a few hours I'll be at the Cornucopia. In a few hours I could come face to face with Cato. In a few hours I could be dead.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _This first chapter was intended to follow the same path as the book. I just wanted to confirm that I am not rewriting The Hunger Games in my own words. The rest of the fic will follow a different plot. I just wanted to get things started before the real action begins *evil laughter*_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The next few hours were uneventful. Peeta's condition didn't change and the arena remained silent. No cannons. No tributes barging into the cave. Nothing.

Reluctantly, I stood up and began to prepare for the feast. There were still a few hours before dawn, but I could not afford to be late, not when Peeta's life was hanging by a thread. Maybe Cato and Clove were already there…

A part of me wants to stay with Peeta. If I die, then he'll be alone. He'd run out of food and water in the next day or two and I certainly couldn't imagine him getting up on his own to collect water from the stream. The pain in his leg would be to unbearable and he'll be left to starve. Maybe his wound will kill him before that, or perhaps Cato will find him and finish him off.

Both Peeta and I know what he's capable of, _especially Peeta_. I don't think that Cato or any of the Careers were taught to kill in a clean and effective manner. I can't even imagine what they were taught back home and I highly doubt they had anything that resembled a normal upbringing. They don't just want to kill, they want to cause as much pain and suffering as they can until their victims takes their final breath. _The worst way to go._ My father always taught me that a good hunter makes the kill as quick and as clean as possible. _Right in they eye_ , he always used to say, and it would be lights out. No pain, no agonizing last breaths, nothing.

It's time to go. At this hour, I'm thankful for the night vision glasses that I had obtained at the Cornucopia. Anti-infection medicine would have been preferable but I don't think such medicine would have been found in the mountain of supplies. Without the glasses, I don't know how I'd make it through the forest without running into a tree, _or another tribute._ I could easily slip and injury myself and then there'd be no hope for Peeta.

I step out into the night. The air is cold and my breaths make small white clouds that disappear into the night sky. The glasses are truly remarkable. We don't have access to this sort of high-tech stuff back at the Seam and so I've never had the opportunity to see the forest at night. Not until now. Everything seems strangely different. It's like the plants and the trees have turned into stone. Still and silent, as though all life has been drained from them. The Gamemakers are in control of the wind. Perhaps this is their way of staging the calm before the storm.

A part of me is concerned that my left ear will affect my ability to make it through the forest safely. I needed to be careful. The explosion likely caused permanent damage. If I was back home with this sort of injury I'd have to live with it for the rest of my life, but this is something that the Capitol could easily fix. If I make it out of here, I'll be rich enough to pay someone to fix my hearing. I'll have enough money to buy anything I want.

I trek at a quick pace. Walking would waste too much time and running might give me away if I'm not careful-

 _BOOM!_

The sound of the cannon causes me to come to a sudden halt. My first thought is of Peeta, bled white, being collected by the hovercraft. No longer here. Heading back home to his family in a wooden box. I grasp the nearest tree for support in an attempt to lull the furious beating of my heart. It can't be him. His leg is bad but not bad enough to kill him yet. He still had time… Seconds seemed like an eternity, but the face that finally appeared in the sky was not Peeta's, but that of a young girl with amber eyes and sleek red hair. _Foxface._

I didn't expect the cannon to go off at this point. It's still dark, which would make it extremely difficult for the tributes to navigate their way around the arena _and_ wipe out another tribute. _Unless they had night vision glasses_.

I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case with Foxface. She was good. I mean, she made it this far, probably without even making a single kill. I don't think she possessed any combat skills, but her cleverness was enough to get here this far into the games. She was probably told by her mentor to hide out somewhere safe while we all butchered each other in the process. But if she came face to face with Cato or Clove, or even Thresh, I don't think she would have stood a chance. I'm not sure if I stand a chance against them, either.

I continue on a path that I know well. It would be too risky to try out any new routes and it wasn't long before I caught sight of the Cornucopia in the distance. As I moved in closer my fear increased ever so slightly when I saw nothing out of the ordinary. The same giant golden horn-shaped cone with a curved tail lay before me. And no feast. I scan my surroundings, wondering if the other tributes have arrived. Thankfully, I can't spot any of them yet.

Just as the first rays of sunlight hit the Cornucopia, something begins to happen. The ground in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia begins to move, splitting into two, creating a large circular hole in the ground. Seconds later, a round table covered with a snowy white cloth emerges from the earth. _A table fit for a feast_. And on the table were four backpacks, each marked with a number. Each of the backpacks varied in size and shape and the one that I was after looked smaller than the palm of my hand.

The moment the table stopped rising, a large figure emerged from the Cornucopia. I immediately recognise it to be Thresh. Stunned by his sudden appearance, I watch in awe as he snatches his backpack and disappears into the forest. I couldn't believe my eyes. He must've been waiting there all night while Cato and Clove were preparing for the feast. He probably knew that they weren't going to pursue him before the feast, not without their backpacks. I admire him for it and at the same time I'm furious at myself for not thinking of the same plan.

Cato and Clove were nowhere in sight and so without hesitation, I began sprinting towards the table. There was no time to waste. I could sense the threat of danger immediately, but I keep running as fast as my legs could carry me. They seemed to move on their own accord. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. I felt alive, exhilarated, fearful and hopeful all at once.

I miraculously make it to the table unscathed and quickly grasp the backpack. Attached to it was a piece of paper with writing on it but just before I was able to make out what the note said, a knife impales itself into my right hand.

I scream out in pain and the backpack falls onto the ground. Blood oozes out of my palm and in the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of Clove charging towards me. I stagger backwards and somehow manage to yank out the knife imbedded into my flesh. Just before Clove was about to send another knife towards me, I sent an arrow straight towards her heart.

The moment the arrow left my hands I knew that I had missed the fatal shot. Rather than piercing her heart, the arrow hit her lower right arm. This gave me the opportunity to grab my backpack off the ground while Clove – momentarily startled by the hit – pulled the arrow out of her arm. Just as I was about to draw another arrow, a second knife slices my forehead. Clove threw just as accurately with her left and as she did her right. Had I been two inches to my right the knife would have pierced my eye and then I'd be done for.

I feel warm liquid running down from my forehead, now searing with pain, and before I knew it I was being tackled to the ground. I fall hard onto by back which knocks the air out of me. I struggle to breathe whilst trying to struggle out of Clove's grasp. She's strong and much heavier than I am, and my injuries aren't helping me much, either.

With one hand she pins both of my arms up above my head whilst sitting on the lower half of my body. _This is it_ , I think to myself. I wont be able to save Peeta after all. He's gonna die because of _me_. I hope that for Prim and Gale's sake that Clove makes it quick. But I know her. She'll want to prolong this for as long as possible. She'll want to give the audience a show.

"Where's lover boy, Twelve?" she asked.

"He's hunting Cato," I snarl. Clove grins at me. She doesn't buy it.

"You can't fool me. I saw Cato cut lover boy's leg. I'm surprised he made it this far," she said, grabbing a large knife from her jacket then bringing it down towards my throat.

"Do you think you were going to make it out of here alive? I'm going to kill you just like we killed that pathetic little girl. She never stood a chance against us. I wish I killed her. She would've been fun to play around with."

Rage surges within me at the mention of Rue and I struggle harder to free myself from Clove's firm grasp. "She was just a little girl and you animals killed her!"

"Yes, and now I'm going to kill you, and then Cato's gonna take care of that boy from District 11. As for lover boy, I think we might just let nature take care of him. It'll be fun watching him bleed to death."

"Peeta!" I yell, hoping to distract her. But it doesn't work.

Blood from the wound on my forehead drips down into my eye, blurring my vision. Just when I thought that I had run out of ideas, I work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it into her face. She presses down on the knife against my throat, drawing blood which I can now feel running down my neck. "Try that again, and I'll make sure that Cato brings lover boy here so you can watch him die yourself. Then when he's finished, I'm gonna slice those pretty little lips off," she said, tracing my mouth with her knife. "After that I'll do the ears… your nose…and then your eyes…. You'll be sent back home in pieces after I'm through with you, Twelve."

I brace myself for the agony I'm about to endure but just when I feel the tip of her blade begin to slice my lip, a cannon goes off in the distance. Clove instantly draws back her blade every so slightly, clearly startled by the echoing sound. This giving me the opportunity to quickly wriggle my uninjured hand from her grip and hit her right in the nose.

The blow isn't hard due to the numbness of my arms, but it's to enough to cause her to loosen her grip on me. My quiver lay right beside me and in it three arrows. This time, I was quicker than Clove. I snatched an arrow with my good hand and jammed it right into her jugular vein before she had the chance to restrain me. Her eyes widened in shock. She clutched her throat as blood began to pour from her wound and onto my torso. I then seized the knife that she was only seconds away from torturing me with and I impaled it into her heart. I pushed her heavy body off me and a second later, the cannon went off.

I was so preoccupied by the thought of killing someone that I almost didn't hear the second cannon go off moments later. Was I imagining it?

My legs are weak. Everything is blurry. The ringing sound in my ear wont stop, either. Medicine. That's what I came here for. I need to go back to the cave.

I look into the sky, shielding my eyes from the scorching sun. Amid shock and pain I was experiencing, both from my hand and the wound on my face, I am able to catch sight of a girl with dark hair. Moments later, Thresh appears in the sky, soon to be reunited with Rue back in District 11. Then the images fade, never to be seen again.

I look around. Cato was no where where to be seen. I turn towards the large circular table and spot a large backpack marked with the number 2. I try to make sense of everything. Cato probably ran after Thresh, leaving Clove with the task of seizing the backpack.

He can't be far…

I stand up and collect my bow and arrows, Peeta's medicine and Clove's knife – it might come in handy later. I also decide take Cato's backpack with me. The contents inside might be useful to me and if it fell into Cato's hands, Peeta and I might not stand a chance against him.

I ran as fast as I possibly could. My head is searing with pain and my biggest fear is that I'll collapse from blood loss before I am able to reach Peeta. I'm still wearing his jacket and the heat is beginning to become unbearable. I'm drenched in sweat and blood. _Clove's blood_ , making it difficult to breathe. I _needed_ to breathe…and run…

I finally catch sight of the cave in the distance. _I'm almost there._ The whole district must be cheering for me. The girl from the Seam that fought off a Career. The girl who's now going to save Pe-

Suddenly there was a strange sucking sensation inside of my chest. I could no longer run. I could no longer move my arms or legs. Time seemed to stop and so did my ability to breathe. My surroundings suddenly morphed into a blur and I could no longer see the cave clearly. The sound of another cannon echoed around me until I was consumed by the sound completely. _Another cannon?_ That can't be right. Thresh is dead. Foxface is dead. Clove is dead – which leaves Cato and-

 _Peeta._

It was like being submerged beneath a pool of water. All I could hear was the sound of my own ragged breaths. I wanted to scream out to him but no sound would come out of my mouth. All I could taste was blood. Mechanical and musty, mingled with the saltiness of my own tears.

But then I saw him on the other side of the stream, running towards me. My heart leapt with joy. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He's charging towards me at a speed that I not even I could match. Every leapt towards me was smooth and effortless. So graceful…so strong...

I turn towards the sky where the crest appears. Seconds later it morphs into the face of a boy with blond hair and blue eyes. _The eyes_. Something is different about them. They're warm and gentle, like his smile. The boy's ashy blond hair falls in waves over his forehead. He's beautiful. So beautiful… It was like looking at an angel. His face was radiant like the sun and flowers in the Meadow, or maybe it was the sunlight playing tricks on me. I couldn't tell.

The boy is still running towards me; his figure growing larger and larger with each step. The ringing in my ears subsides ever so slightly and my vision becomes more defined. As a regain my senses, I look towards the cave. I'm so close. I just need to keep running – no matter what. I needed to get to Peeta.

Suddenly, a hovercraft appears out of thin air. The massive machine flies right above the cave, which then splits into two.

"PEETA! Wait! NO! NO! NO!" I shout. I shout so loudly that my throat burns. Tears are streaming down my face. This can't be happening. I speed towards the gave. The wind from the hovercraft almost knocks me over. And then I see him being lifted in to the air. Almost as if he were asleep and the hovercraft was merely carrying him home to his bed.

I collapse to the ground and weep. Peeta disappears into the hovercraft, never to be seen again.

I'm so consumed by grief and shock that it takes me a few moments to notice Cato standing a few steps behind me.

"Looks like it's just the two of us, Twelve."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _In the books, Clove is described as strong and brawny, yet in the films she is depicted with more of a child-like physique. Her strength and robust figure is something that I wanted to incorporate into this fic in order to emphasise the difference between the Careers and those who come from poorer districts._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Cato**

I never considered fear to be an option, nor have I ever considered failure. We were trained to win, and that was what I was going to do, no matter what.

We're getting close to the end now. I can feel it. Clove suspects that the Gamemakers are going to organise something big. A grand finale, she calls it. I feel it, too. The days and nights are becoming shorter, the temperature is changing more than usual, and everything seems unnervingly quiet and calm. A prelude to the denouement.

"I'll take care of twelve. She's mine," says Clove, sharpening her knives.

As much as I want to get rid of her myself, I have a bigger problem, so I let Clove have her way. I know that she will give the audience the show that they want and I can't argue with that. And besides, District 11 is another issue that I need to deal with. He's proven that he can take a fight. People back home are probably wondering why I haven't killed him yet.

I watch Clove prepare her supplies. Her demeanour has changed since the games started. Brutus told me to expect this. It happens every year. When there's only a few left, survival becomes a priority, not teamwork. We both know what'll happen if it's just the two of us left. Despite how close were are, one of us will have to go and when the time comes neither of us will hesitate.

For now, my priority is District 11. The redhead from District 5 isn't worrying me. I don't think she's killed any tributes, despite making it this far. It's a common tactic that they weak employ to survive. I've seen in many times in previous years. They focus on hiding while the rest of the tributes kill each other off one by one. I have to admit that I admire her tactic, but the time will come when she'll have to confront one of us and a tiny girl like that wont stand a chance.

Lover boy won't last long, either. I wish that I had just finished him when I had the chance.

If the girl from twelve found him he might even last a couple more days without medicine. But I've seen infections like that and it's a tough way to go. If the girl from twelve really does love him that much, she'll know that a quick snap of the neck or a few Nightlock berries are what's best for him. She'll be labelled a hero for ending his suffering.

I remember what it was like to have a cut that deep. As a part of our training program our mentors would purposely lacerate our leg or arm, or sometimes across our chest. Then they would leave us in an artificially constructed arena. I was stuck in a desert cave with nothing except a container of water and the clothes that I was wearing. I only lasted two days before they had to send for the medics.

It's the night before the feast. After having heard the invitation Clove and I get to work preparing the remaining weapons we have. We're running out of food supplies and weapons, so we're both certain that our backpack will contain either one of those things. I'm betting on the weapons.

We have a few hours so we decide to get some sleep. Although neither of us will admit it, we're both exhausted as hell. While Clove takes the first watch I close my eyes and think of home. I imagine the parades and parties that will be held in my honour. I imagine the proud look on everyone's face as Snow places the gold crown on my head, a symbol of strength, power and triumph. The Girl on Fire will no longer be the Capitol favourite, not when she's being shipped back to her district in a box. I'm so close that I can almost taste it. Just one more hurdle before the finish line.

I was never expecting to fall asleep, but at one point I do, and I dream.

 _Clove and I are running towards the Cornucopia. I see the girl from twelve in the distance. Lover boy is with her, too. He's running towards us with a machete in his hand, one that looks remarkably similar to the one that I have…_

 _I look down, only to see that my hands are empty. I have no weapon to defend myself. I've broken the first rule of training: never make yourself vulnerable. It is a sign of weakness._

 _Clove, who is armed in a protective vest waves her knives at me and shakes her head reproachfully, "You're not prepared, Cato. You've been preparing for this moment your whole life and you don't even think to bring a weapon with you? Brutus won't be happy about that."_

 _The lover boy is getting close and closer. His eyes are focused on me, they're determined and filled with rage. He is ready to kill and it looks like I'm his target._

 _My heart is racing. In these types of situations we're trained to calm ourselves and maintain constant focus, but panic is the only thing that I'm feeling right now. Sheer terror and panic._

" _Looks like you didn't get him after all, Cato." Clove roars with laughter. "I always knew you were pathetic."_

" _That's impossible! Even with Capitol meds he shouldn't be running like that," I yell. Her laughter becomes louder and louder until it's all that I can hear. The shrill sound echoes around me and I have to cover my ears like a child to shield them from the piercing pain. I could just imagine everyone back home, laughing at the failure from District 2 that let District 12 scum get away._

 _They're getting larger and larger with every step. District 11 and District 5 appear out of thin air, eyes focused only on me. We need to think of a plan fast. I can see our backpack in the distance. I'm almost there. We have a chance. We can do this._

 _It was as though Clove was reading my thoughts. "You think I'm going to side with you? You're a disgrace to our district," she says, turning to face me. "Look around Cato, they all want you dead. And so do 1."_

 _Before I could stop her, Clove has me pinned to the ground. The impact knocks the air out of me and my vision blurs momentarily. I struggle to free myself, but the more that I move the tighter her grip on my arms become. Her body is pressed heavily against my chest and I struggle to breathe. I'm trapped._

" _What are you doing?!" I wheeze._

" _What I should've done from the beginning." She presses her knife hard against my throat, undoubtedly drawing blood, and continues to speak calmly, "But I'm gonna let lover boy take care of you. He wants to have a little fun before I finish you off. He looks pretty mad after what you did to him."_

" _No! Clove, don't do this!"_

" _And after he's finished, District 11 can have you next…"_

" _No!"_

" _Then District 5. After that, it'll be lights out. Don't look so upset, Cato. You didn't think that you were gonna make it out of here alive, did you?"_

 _Instantly, they all appear towering above me and before I can plea for their mercy, they charge towards me, eyes focused, teeth bared and then everything goes black._

I'm jolted out of my nightmare by the sound of a canon. Clove jumps to her feet, looking up towards the sky. "I bet its lover boy. I knew he wouldn't last long."

I wait for the face to appear, but it's not the one that I was expecting to see. "Redhead from five," says Clove, looking slightly surprised. "That's one less to worry about," she adds. Her face fades from the sky, never to be seen again. I quietly sigh in relief as the images from my dream fade with her.

"I was just about to wake you. It's time to go."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Sorry to disappoint you all with such a short chapter. Chapter 4 will be much longer._


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